


Oh Well, Okay

by CaptainAngsty



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Suicide Attempt, Writing without enough sleep should be a warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 01:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13135842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainAngsty/pseuds/CaptainAngsty
Summary: His little demonstration for Roose wasn't the first time Ramsay gave his pet the task of shaving him.





	Oh Well, Okay

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very tired, this is unbeta'd, it's Christmas and the title was just the name of an Elliott Smith song I was listenin to at the time.
> 
> Enjoy.

_Soft._  
  
 _So soft and warm._  
  
Those were words Reek hadn’t even been able to think his entire life… That previous life had known them with abundance. _No._ He couldn’t think of those person’s memories.   
  
His name was Reek, all he knew was the scratch of splintering wood, the chaffing hold of leather, the cold dampness of the kennel floor and his cruel, loving Master. He had to remember only Reek’s life. Reek couldn’t understand why he awoke amongst plush pelts atop a large bed warmed through from the crackling fire opposite. He didn’t deserve this, he belonged with the dogs.  
  
He ran his right hand over the fur, committing the feeling to memory. With his left he gripped it to feel it between his fingers only to release in an instant.  
  
 _Oh._  
  
 _Of course. This must be a punishment for before_ he thought dimly, Master loved his games when his Reek misbehaved. His eyes locked onto the scabbed, blistering flesh of his wrist, blood remained smeared up to his elbow in panicked tracks.  
  
‘You are not allowed to leave yet. Not until I say.’  
  
Master’s voice sounded almost scared in his memories.  
  
————  
  
‘I thought today we could try something new, think of it as a trust exercise. I’m putting so much trust in you Reek, more than you have earned. I need to know you are loyal to me, not like that silly man we got rid of. Do you understand?’  
  
‘Of course Master.’  
  
He tried to keep up as they moved through the castle to a simple room with a chair and table dead centre, his mind running through every possible task Master could want of him. Whimpering as his warped gait presented his previous failures.  
   
‘Stop making those pitiful noises, I just want you to shave me, surely someone even as stupid as you can handle such a simple order. Can you not?’  
  
Reek only at that moment locked onto his Master’s eyes. _There has to be a trick._ Played over and over as he managed a stuttered nod.  
  
‘Good!’ Teeth bared in the mocking of a smile. ‘You’ve seen me be shaved before, repeat what you saw, I know you are not foolish enough to try and hurt me’  The thinly veiled warning hanging heavy in the air.  
  
 _There has to be a trick._  
 _There has to be a trick._  
 _There has to be a trick._  
 _There has to be a trick._  
 _There has to be a trick._  
 _There has t-_  
  
When his mind came back into focus Master was sat, his jaw covered in the thick foam. Those dead eyes looking on in expectancy as he pulled away the hand that had just pushed a gleaming razor into Reek’s shaking own.  
  
He slowly tracked around the chair, caution in every step. There has to be a trick. Willing the shaking to go away to any extent he’d set the razor on the warm throat.   
  
_One cut. One cut and you’re free._  
  
 _No_  
  
 _One cut and he’s gone, the others would do worse without Master there to stop them. He said so himself._  
  
So with as much grace as he could muster he dragged the blade up instead of across. A patch of hairless flesh remained, then another and another until he had to turn and clear the blade in the bowl sat on the table beside. The water felt so alien on the tips of his finger. Warm steam as opposed to the biting chill flowed through his hand and for the briefest moment he closed his eyes, only opening them when a finger caught the edge of the blade, slicing through with ease.   
  
He drew it back inspecting the cut like a curious child.  
  
 _I did that._  
  
A sharp cough drew him away.   
  
‘Faster Reek, I really don’t want to have you punish you for more disobedience but you must always force my hand…’  
  
 _One cut. One cut and you’re free._  
  
‘Forgive me Master.’  
  
 _One cut and you’re gone._  
  
With no surmountable grace he dragged the blade across his wrist. A drop of blood could be heard hitting the floor in response, then another and another until they merged into a constant rhythm in the distance. Reek could only see the open flesh that was before an unmarked wrist releasing the once thought precious red nectar of life.   
  
_I did that._  
  
‘What did you do?!’  
  
Calloused fingers wrapped around his escape, the cold Bolton eyes jumping between them and his pet’s transfixed gaze. A sound close to a growl punctuated a sharp pull as his Master dragged him back through the castle halls, blood leaving a stark trail in their wake, weaker in the fierce grip but still constant.  
  
As the the chamber door closed he could feel the fuzziness in his head that normally accompanied the punishment of starvation. Improper feeding had left him weak enough to feel the effects of blood loss faster than any man. Master set him down on the edge of the hearth, the rare heat already a ghost on his numb limbs.  
  
‘You are not allowed to leave yet. Not until I say.’  
  
Panic could not be masked as his captor pulled a knife from his belt, holding the treasured item into the flame, vibrant oranges and reds reflected in the cold blue as Reek looked into the last face he would see. In his approaching death delirium he couldn’t hold in the small laugh when he noticed Master’s face was still covered in the shaving foam, the neat patch standing out oddly on the underside of his chin.  
  
The laugh slid into a gasp as burning hot metal met the pulsing wrist. He glanced at the blades removal, the oh so familiar scent of burning flesh wafting into the surrounding air but still the wound weeped crimson into the forming puddle beneath. Master’s eyes opening wide in realisation, hand moving the knife back into the heat to try again.  
  
 _It’s okay to be scared._  
  
His thought of wanting to comfort his tormentor remaining his last before emptiness swallowed him.  
  
————  
  
A creaking door woke Reek from his faint dreaming, a soft dip on the bed and a warm hand on his cheek forced him to open his eyes. Slightly melted ice blue stared back, filled with an emotion he couldn’t decipher.   
  
‘I was truthfully worried you were gone.’  His face moved in closer and those lips Reek despised met his forehead in the most loving gesture he had felt in his memory. He could only hope the woman who had to have been his mother had done the same to him as a child.  
  
A choked sob bubbled from his weak chest as they withdrew to reveal the sick smile that was only a predecessor for pain.  
  
‘But you disobeyed me and now you have to face your punishment.’  
  
Tears cut down red hot cheeks as the gentle hand slid down to his throat in a familiar hold.  
  
‘Now remove those rags.’  
  
 _Forgive me Master._  
  
 _Please._  
  



End file.
